Robbed...again

Friday I picked Dylan up from school and he and I headed home to prepare for our trip to Denver. We got to the house and as the garage door was opening, I took my time getting Dylan and I out of the car. I saw that the door from the house was open, but didn't think much of it because it doesn't close well and it ends up open half the time. As I got closer to the doorway, I noticed that the cabinets were open in the mud room. Good, maybe Jason was looking for the title to the truck his mom had found a buyer for that same day. At that moment, my eyes took in the rest of the scene and I realized that we had been robbed...again.

I will start by saying that I took it all in fairly calmly at first because I expected it. Do you ever get that feeling that something is going to happen and then you are relieved because you no longer have to wait for it? That's how I felt, like we'd been hit and that was the worst of it. I set Dylan down with his toys, next to the entertainment center pulled away from the wall so that the thieves could get the X-box out. I noticed both laptops were gone, cameras, etc. and continued to assure myself that these were just things and that they were absolutely replacable (and with better models at that!)

What things do you keep in your bedroom that you don't want the world to see? We've got some stuff, and there is no feeling like seeing these, um, things tossed to the side by some strangers who totally violated your space. My bras and panties were all over the place and I sighed as the emotion came into my throat. My Grandmother's pearls had been found and taken. My mom had given them to me to wear for my wedding and I never bothered to give them back. They had escaped unharmed last time and that should have made it a priority to give them back, but I guess I assumed I had hit my robbery quota and forgot. Then I went into Dylan's room.

Dylan's room is very clearly a baby's room. If the crib isn't a clue, then maybe the A-B-C books or rocking horse could be an effective tool in figuring that out. Yet these criminals decided a baby's room was at least worth checking out. When I got to Dylan's dresser and saw that his sterling silver piggy bank was gone, that's when I got pissed and teary. Who the fuck is such a loser that they steal a baby's piggy bank?! Really, I'd like to know. Yeah, it had like $75 in it. It also had that little thing on the bottom to let the money out. Dylan got that from his grandparents for Christmas and I love polishing it and putting money in it (dollar coins only in that one). And now some meth head effing loser is trying to convince someone to give him $5 for it after he already bought some crank with the dollar coins. Effen loser.

So there's the drama. We couldn't decide whether or not to go to Denver, but after Continental promised to charge us $100 each to change it, we went. I didn't mention it before, but the thieves actually kicked in our front door to get it. Both of our parents were hear within minutes of finding out what happened. Paul and Karen went and rekeyed the doors and repaired the front door so that it would close, since the thieves had hit it with such force that the casing was splintered and hanging off and the hardware from the door had literally been thrown off the wood. My mom consoled me and assured me that the pearls (her mom's) had been through three robberies including her own and that they had finally simply been taken. Knowing our family would drop everything instantly to help us when we need them is a fantastic feeling, and it is a shame that it takes lows to make you the most aware of that.

There were two other similar front door break-in's in the neighborhood that same day. Suddenly every young minority who has been through the neighborhood to read a meter is being remembered by neighbors who had a bad feeling at the time and I doubt anything will come of it. My neighbor across the street was in the garage the whole time mine happened. We'll get an alarm, but what a crap-o feeling knowing someone came in and disrespected you and your family's space. My mom was really upset because she thinks I interupted them. That is up for debate, since they exited out the back door and one of my old school cameras was actually out of the bag and on the floor. Not a good feeling.

We will go ahead and get an alarm this time. I hate alarms and the lack of trust in the world that they imply, but my trust in the world keeps getting tested and I don't want anyone to get hurt next time. The whole thing is a shame, I hate that it puts value in the belief that the city is unsafe and that to have a shot at a safe place to raise your kids you have to move 30 miles from downtown.

But the thing I hate the most is that the thieves always take a pillowcase. The king sized one, which I had finally gotten around to replacing, and for what ever reason is a pain to replace. Just like last time, the duffle bags were in plain view, and yet they took the pillowcase...sigh.